


Chasing The Thrill

by DragonGirl87



Series: Punishments & Pleasure [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Affection, Aftercare, BDSM, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Communication, Consensual Kink, Dom Harry Potter, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, Hard Limits, Honesty, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kink Negotiation, Kissing, Love, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV First Person, POV Harry Potter, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Soft Limits, Sub Draco Malfoy, Submission, Top Harry Potter, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 21:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19237252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGirl87/pseuds/DragonGirl87
Summary: “We’ll have to talk about this, Draco.”I deliberately use his given name and he nods.“Yes, Harry, I know.”--OR--Draco finally plucks up the courage to make an unexpected request that ends in a very long and very kinky conversation between him and Harry.





	Chasing The Thrill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KingKay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingKay/gifts).



> First, I would like to clarify that the only reason I've rated this fic "Explicit" is because the topic is BDSM and while there is mention of nudity and some established Dom/sub relationship elements, no actual play happens in this story. What does happen, however, is a lengthy chat between Harry and Draco about a very heavy BDSM Scene with consensual non-consensual elements. I'm not very explicit with the details of the proposed scene but based on their conversation you can guess what Draco wants and what Harry will do. If that's a trigger for you, I'd rather you didn't read the story, however I will stress again, **EVERYTHING** that happens in this story is absolutely consensual, there is merely talk about non-consensual acts, **talk** that's all there is.
> 
> Now, there will possibly be a follow-up to this negotiation but I haven't decided that yet, however you can imagine what that follow-up will entail and I can assure you I will absolutely enjoy writing it, even if not everyone will enjoy reading it or click out of it after a skim over the tags.
> 
> Finally, **K** , I can't believe how easy it was to sneak this past you. It's unbelievable how gullible you were when I said that I was writing a fic for a friend. And yes, I know I lied and said I wasn't writing this for you and I'm very aware that I'll at the very least get a heavy spanking for my cheek (and at the very worst get yelled at too and have a butt plug thrown at my face), but I hope you'll reconsider your desire to punish me once you finish reading. If you absolutely must go ahead, I will take my punishment without backtalk and thank you for it too. I'm not sure this story qualifies as mindless, tooth-decaying fluff but I know it's the kind of fluff you like, so, yeah, if it wasn't already obvious, this story is for you. Thank you for yesterday, thanks for the laughter and the tears and everything in between. I love you.

* * *

It’s not often that I make him go get his old slightly tattered dark-green leather-bound journal out and write his thoughts down. We’ve been doing this for years now and at this stage, I absolutely can read him like a book.

On the odd occasion that I do struggle to make sense of his reactions, I simply sit him down and we talk things through.

It works, for both of us. He has told me so, repeatedly.

Our conversations don’t just happen here at the cottage but also at home or over dinner when we’re out on a regular vanilla date or even in a quiet corner of our favourite pub and over a drink or three.

Explicit negotiations are far and few in-between and usually only happen when we review our contract to add and/or subtract things.

We have a set routine.

I know what he likes, wants, and needs and he knows what I expect from him. Whether he delivers on that is, of course, a different story altogether.

Mind, we do talk.

A lot.

About everything.

I don’t have to negotiate a scene with him to work out that he might need a slightly different approach to playtime. Strangely enough, when you’ve been married for as long as we have and when you’ve been playing together for as long as we have, a mundane conversation about the weather can tell you a lot about the other person. It doesn’t tell you everything and you often will have to ask for specifics, but you can tell.

I pride myself on my observational skills. I would be a very bad Dom if I didn’t make a conscious effort to hone those skills and it’s something, I’ve gotten extremely good at over the years.

Draco absolutely knows that, however, most of the time he deliberately chooses to ignore the fact that I pay attention to all the little details and notice everything. That, and he often struggles to make the first move when it comes to taking the initiative to start a conversation with me.

He tries. He doesn’t always succeed but he does try and I always praise him for his efforts, no matter how small they are.

He’s slightly better at it when it comes to conversations unrelated to kink. That’s when he opens his mouth and natters away without a second thought, though not always. He does tend to keep certain things locked up, though that’s mostly because he’s a private person and doesn’t care for others knowing too much about his personal affairs. Despite being married to the man, I sometimes, unfortunately, and mostly involuntarily, end up falling into that category.

While I have the key to all his secrets, I hardly ever pressure him to relive old memories and perhaps, inadvertently, reopen old wounds. There are certain things I will never let slide, such as when I see him slipping or when I can tell he’s in a bad headspace.

Occasionally, I will purposefully let things slide and instead of addressing them I might choose to take a backseat and simply observe.

This is what I’ve done over the past several weeks and ever since he all but dropped his brattiness in favour of being unbelievably obedient. It’s been well over two months since he last defied me or stubbornly disregarded the rules in favour of getting what he wants, which usually involves an intense pain play session — it’s the one thing he still struggles to ask for and while I’ve raised my expectations, I do still allow him the one or other transgression in order to achieve his goal.

I do it in part because I enjoy his bratty sass and backtalk and in part because I love the chase, the thrill of pushing him down and demanding his submission after he’s been acting up a little too much.

Lately, however, he’s been asking permission for absolutely everything and so far, he’s been perfectly acquiescent.

Even at home.

That’s the only place where he tends to adopt a more dominant attitude since that is the person he is; a free spirit, an opinionated wild child that has grown into a handsome man, one who stole my heart and captivated my soul and mind a long, long time ago.

It’s not like him to be quite this docile but I simply had to let it play out, had to see whether he might pluck up the courage to ask me for a sit-down chat. There were a few afternoons where I thought he might but he always chickened out and I didn’t push him.

Some things need to unravel completely before one can talk about them with a clear head.

When just the other day, he asked me to cane him and when I pushed him and demanded a reason, he subserviently kneeled at my feet and told me he needed the pain, craved it more than anything, then begged me to push him deep and keep him under for as long as possible. I didn’t deny him, how could I, and it was the longest sensual caning he ever got from me but watching him go under, seeing him drift and slowly lose himself as pleasure took over and he stopped to feel the pain of each stinging blow, well, I’d have to have been a complete fool not to realise that something else was going on in his mind, something that had been festering and slowly growing for a while.

It’s for that very reason that I made him retrieve his journal from his room sometime after lunch, then left him in the kitchen to organise his thoughts and write them down for me to read.

Normally, he likes to resist me when I push him into using his journal but today, he was so utterly acquiescent about it that I knew he’d finally unravelled completely and was ready, ready to be one-hundred percent honest with me about his need.

I knew it would be something big, something that would require more than one conversation and possibly also a lot of preparation, however, now that I’ve finished reading his journal entry – all ten pages of it – I must admit he caught me somewhat off-guard. I’ve kept my mask in place and he doesn’t know anything about just how surprised I am about his request and that’s exactly how it should be.

With this, he absolutely needs me to be in control, needs to know that I can keep a cool head and handle this.

I lower the journal and smile softly. Ever since he came into the room and handed me his journal, he’s been quietly kneeling at my feet, naked, with his hands behind his back and his head submissively lowered. Even though I’ve stopped reading and he knows that I have, he hasn’t moved an inch and I can’t help but take a few minutes to simply admire him.

He looks gorgeous when he’s submitting to me like that. Yes, he is naked but there’s nothing sexual about his pose. He’s being beautifully submissive and I could sit here and stare at him all day.

Alas, we have something important to discuss and so I slowly move to the edge of the sofa and reaching out I run my fingers through his soft blond hair.

I’ve not allowed him to have it cut and it’s longer than usual. It suits him and I thoroughly enjoy tangling my fingers into it and twisting it, especially during sex. Right now, though, I’m just enjoying running my fingers through his hair and listening to the way his breathing slowly changes as he relishes in the soft caress. I can see the slow rise and fall of his chest and the way his stomach quivers.

I can’t see his lips but I imagine them to be slightly parted and I picture him running the tip of his tongue over them to wet them a little.

I want his hair to grow a little longer still so that I can braid it before we play. He’d look absolutely stunning with a complex French braid, a pair of silver lace panties, a black corset, and his favourite high heels.

They make him so much taller than me but I hardly ever let him walk whenever he wears them. Most of the time he’s crawling, or he finds himself on his back with his legs up in the air while I plough into him without bothering to take any of his clothes off.

It’s not about feminising him as such but about accentuating his curves and his beautiful figure. He wears those clothes with more grace than any woman in any fashion magazine I’ve ever perused and while I don’t indulge very often, it absolutely is one of the few kinks I cannot live without.

It is with some difficulty that I pull my mind away from those salacious thoughts and caressing his scalp for another minute or so I gently prompt him to look up at me. He does so immediately and without hesitation. His silvery-grey eyes are clear and calm and he looks at me with a serene expression. There’s no worry etched into his forehead, it’s blissfully free from creases.

He is completely open and not at all ashamed about his request — this is how close we are. He knows he can tell me absolutely anything, sometimes, it just takes a while before he does it. That’s just the way he is and it makes him special and unique. It also makes me love him even more. I find it easy to fall for him and I do so repeatedly and over the smallest things.

“My precious pet, you’re so good for telling me all this.”

I whisper sweet words of praise into the room and he smiles softly.

“Thank you, Harry.”

His voice is low and warm, though not at all subdued. It’s like a weight has fallen off his shoulders now that I’ve made him tell me what’s been troubling him and I can tell he appreciates me taking initiative and pushing him to take the last step.

“We’ll have to talk about this, Draco.”

I deliberately use his given name and he nods.

“Yes, Harry, I know.”

“Good boy. Now, I want you to go to your room and put on some clothes. I’ve chosen an outfit for you while you were completing your journal entry. You needn’t bother with socks or shoes, we’re not going out but for this conversation, I need you to fully clothed. When you’ve finished putting your clothes on, go into the kitchen and make us some tea and prepare a plate of biscuits. The weather is lovely this afternoon so you’ll find me in the garden waiting for you.”

“Yes, Harry. May I please be excused?”

“In a moment,” I say.

I smile and massage his scalp until I pull a soft whimper from his lips, then lean forward, cup his chin with my other hand and kiss him, softly, slowly. I take my sweet time prying his lips open and slithering my tongue into the warm wet cavern that is his mouth.

My tongue finds his and I caress it gently, toying with it until he surrenders to me and practically falls into my arms. I catch him and running my fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders, I massage those, then run my fingertips along his spine, teasing it and making him arch into my embrace. Compared to what he wrote in his journal, the exchange is a stark contrast. It’s light and playful, relaxed, and tender. It has no resemblance to what he wants from me.

When I pull away from the kiss, his eyes are no longer clear and calm but dark. There’s a smouldering heat in them that makes me lean forward and kiss his forehead, a silent reminder that I will always protect him and that I respect him. It also tells him that he’s mine and that he’ll always be mine. He’ll always be my husband and he’ll always be my precious pet and that no matter what happens I’ll never hurt him any more than he wants me to. Above all, it’s a promise that he’ll get to return to submitting to me just as soon as we’ve had this conversation.

I straighten up, caress his cheek and smile. He mirrors my smile and blinks slowly, like a cat. My heart flutters at the sight and I withdraw and sit back.

“Now you can leave,” I tell him.

He nods.

“Thank you, Harry.

I watch him get up and he gracefully heads for the door, moving elegantly with his naked arse swaying from side to side. His buttocks and the back of his thighs still carry the marks from the caning I gave him the other day. They’ve started to fade but the streaks are still there.

In some places, the bruises are still quite prominent and he looks beautiful like that, thoroughly stunning. I love seeing my marks on him and once he’s left the room, I almost want to call him back just so I can return to admiring them, touching them, and reminding him and me of that very intense and intimate session that had him sobbing while I wielded the cane and crying softly later on when I held him and waited for him to slowly come down from his high.

Instead, I stand and gathering up his journal and a large red and yellow checkered blanket, I make my way into our playroom and opening the large French windows, I step out into the garden and soak up the warm afternoon sun. There’s a mild breeze in the air and it’s refreshing. I take a few deep breaths, then head over to the large oak tree and spread the blanket out on the soft grass.

It’s been a while since either Draco or I hit it with a trimming charm and it’s vividly green, soft, and delightfully fragrant.

With the blanket spread out, I get comfortable and stretching out, I shuffle to lie on my back and a simple wandless charm adds a protective layer to my glasses, effectively turning them into a fancy pair of shades.

I’ve got a few minutes before Draco will join me with tea and biscuits and I summoning an ordinary Muggle pen from my study, I open Draco’s journal and leaf to the first page of his entry. I’ve read the entire entry three times already but I want to leave a few notes and I’ve got just enough time to do so before Draco finishes making our tea.

About ten minutes or so pass and I’ve just scribbled a note onto the last page of Draco’s entry when he joins me in the garden, looking rather sexy in a pair of blue washed-out figure-hugging jeans and a thin white cashmere jumper. He smiles and kneeling, he carefully sets a tray with two large mugs of Earl Grey and a large plate of my favourite – and incidentally also his – chocolate biscuits down in the centre of the blanket. He pushes it closer to me, then gets comfortable on the blanket and reaching for my mug of tea, he hands it to me.

“Harry.”

“Thank you, my love.”

I blow over the tea, then bring it up to my lips and take a few small sips.

“Perfect,” I praise and the faint flush that rises into his face and spreads out over his cheeks tells me he appreciates my compliment.

I watch him reach for a chocolate biscuit and dipping it into his own tea, he takes a bite and chews slowly. I wait until he’s finished it and washed it down with several sips of tea. Then I slowly sit up properly and closing the journal I place it on top of the blanket beside me.

“I’m not going to ask you whether you really want this because I can tell that you do, but what I need to know is whether you’re absolutely sure or whether you think it might be a fantasy, something you’re happy to keep imagining.”

Draco blushes and momentarily adverts his eyes, then, after taking a deep breath, focuses back on me.

“It’s been a fantasy for the longest time but I want it to be more, I want it to be real. I want the experience, I want the sensations, I want the psychological aspect of it.”

I nod.

“Very well, thank you for being honest with me, Draco.”

“You’re welcome, Harry.”

“This is going to be tough on you, on both of us. I expect you’ll go deep, very deep. It’s not something we’ve ever done before.”

“I know but I trust you to do it right.”

I take another few sips of tea and regard Draco carefully for a few moments.

“I absolutely will take care of you; you have my word and you’ll also have it in writing. A binding contract with a magical signature.”

He nods.

“Are you— Does it— Do you—”

He stammers his way through the question, then gives up, but as I said, I can read him and I know what he wants to know.

“Yes, Draco. It excites me and it arouses me. I will enjoy it as much as you will. It will be a new experience but I’m confident I can handle it.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t know you could.”

I smile and watch him reach for another biscuit. His confidence and trust make the prospect of trying something new that much more exciting.

We experiment often and it’s always a delight.

I like to keep things fresh and exciting, for both of our benefits, but if we’re going to do this, it’s going to top everything we’ve ever tried and I have the feeling it’s going to change our relationship significantly.

Done right, it should absolutely bring us closer together. Done wrong, it could potentially be damaging and leave us both with lasting emotional scars.

Considering that he’s my husband and that our marriage might potentially be at stake here, I should feel terrified but I cannot bring myself to summon that emotion.

I don’t feel it.

My chest is full of respect and admiration for Draco’s honesty and his desire to try something so emotionally and physically challenging. I feel the overpowering need to protect him and tell him that he’s loved and cared for and that, if we do this and no matter what happens, this is a feeling that will never change but before I can get the words out, he speaks up first.

“I know, Harry. I’m sorry it took me so long to ask, I wasn’t ready.”

It is my turn to tell him that I know and we both smile and drink our tea. It’s such a typically British scene and entirely at odds with what we’re talking about. It makes me chuckle into my tea but not for long.

“I will only ever push you to share something when I feel that you’re being self-destructive. You were unusually obedient and not at all bratty but most definitely not harming yourself in any way, so don’t apologise.”

“Yes, Harry.”

It is difficult to pull Draco completely out of his submissive headspace when we’re at the cottage but I know he’s focused enough to follow the conversation and have a mature discussion with me about this and it is for this very reason that I don’t attempt a change of location or use my own safe word to put a temporary stop to our kinky weekend.

I shuffle a little closer and putting my tea mug down onto the tray, I reach out for Draco’s hand and lace our fingers together.

“Do you want to know what will happen in advance? Like, do you want me to give you a play by play?”

He shakes his head immediately.

“No, please, I don’t. I want you to be in charge, I want it to happen without me knowing anything about it in advance.”

I nod. I can do that. I plan all our scenes and while this one will be tricky to plan it won’t be impossible. I will, of course, need to do some research and I may need to talk to a couple of people from our local dungeon but none of those slight obstacles will stop me from coming up with something to absolutely blow Draco’s mind with.

“OK. Noted. How deep do you want to go and how far do you want to push me?”

He doesn’t answer me immediately but I don’t force his answer; I’ve no need to.

“I— I—”

He starts to speak but falters.

A light flush appears on his face, colouring his cheeks pink as he looks away and focuses on the thick stem of the oak tree.

Many years ago, I can’t quite remember exactly how many, I edged our names into the bark and cut a heart around it. I’m not sure what possessed me to do it but I think it was probably one of those nights where I was tremendously inebriated and allowed my feelings for Draco to get the better of me.

Then again, it also marks the exact spot where I asked for his hand in marriage and where I gave him his first and only eternity collar, so despite its cheesiness, it holds plenty of special memories for both of us.

“All the way?”

I ask the question to make it easier for Draco to answer me and he huffs out a breath of air, then nods.

“Yes, please, Harry. All the way.”

“This will be tough on you, physically and mentally. You will need a few days to come back out of it. You will need plenty of aftercare. We can’t do this on a Friday night. You won’t be in any fit state to go to work on a Monday morning. At least not the first time we do this.”

“I know but it’s not like I have to open the shop up bright an early on Monday morning. I can delegate or keep the shutters down.”

“Hm, yes, you can. Doesn’t look so good when I do it, but—”

“You’re Harry Potter, you can do whatever the hell you want.”

I smirk at his cheek.

“Someone found an ounce of sass. And here was I thinking that you’d given that up completely.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

I chuckle.

“Don’t push me too far. This may be a negotiation but I can still punish you after and I promise you it’ll be something you most definitely won’t like.”

His eyes sparkle for a moment, then he closes them and lowers his head for a moment or two. A silent promise from him to me, a display of obedience, of his submission to me.

I squeeze his hand and his eyes open slowly. He blinks and focuses on me. A faint smile caresses the edges of his mouth and his eyes are clear and calm again.

“Where do you want us to do the scene?”

“Here, please. I feel most comfortable doing it here, plus nobody will hear us and chances that we’re interrupted are non-existent.”

“OK. Here works. Will you promise me to use your safe word if it gets too much to take?”

“I will, but I can’t promise I’ll remember. I want you to push me really hard, I might not be able to remember.”

I nod.

“Then I’ll keep checking in. What should I do if you tell me no?”

“Don’t stop. Please. Unless I safe word or you think I’m physically or emotionally unable to handle any more, just, please, don’t stop.”

I swallow.

This won’t be the first time that I’ll hear Draco repeatedly tell me _no_ when he doesn’t want me to stop but it’ll feel different and just like I know he’ll go deep; I know I’ll go into an entirely different headspace. To do what he wants me to do, I’ll have to.

“OK. I can do that. You’re putting an awful lot of trust in me, though.”

He smiles, softly, almost shyly.

“I am; however, I do trust you that much.”

I let go of his hand, though not without squeezing it first, then reach for my tea and take a few sips.

“Thank you, Draco. I appreciate this. I know it all but feels good to hear how you feel about me, this, and us. Now, please tell me. Do you want to resist?”

Draco nods but I shake my head.

“No, Draco, words, explanations.”

“I’m sorry. Yes, Harry. Please. I want to fight back.”

“Alright, good. What about your hard limits? Is there anything you want to change about them?”

“No, Harry. But— but—”

He struggles again and I give him a moment. This time I’m confident he doesn’t need my help to get the words out and he doesn’t disappoint.

“I’d like you to push my soft limits, really push them.”

I regard him for several minutes, then nod.

“Push or break or a mix of both?”

“As long as I’m in a good emotional space, go for it.”

“You’re asking a lot, but OK.”

“If it’s too much—”

I find the worried expression on Draco’s face quite endearing and leaning forward, I cup his cheek and kiss his lips.

“No, my love, it isn’t. I will give you exactly what you want and need, you can be sure of that. I just need to have all the facts. Now, as with all our scenes sobriety is necessary, I’m not doing this under the influence and that applies to both alcohol and any sort of drugs or potions. That’s my requirement and it’s non-negotiable. Sober all the way.”

Draco nods.

“Yes, Harry. I agree, it’ll be safer for both of us.”

“Good. You wrote in your journal entry that you want it to be sexual. Are you absolutely sure about that?”

“Yes, Harry. I still want that. I want you to take me as you see fit and if I resist, take me anyway. You’re in charge.”

I smile.

“Aren’t I always?”

I lighten the mood with a silly question and he chuckles.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, Harry.”

I caress his cheek, softly, tenderly and smile.

“I know and you can be sure that I’ll always give you what you want and need, I told you that many times but I’m happy to keep telling you. Now, the last few things. What you’re asking for will most likely include bondage. There will be impact and pain play, loads of it. How do you feel about marks?”

“Nothing permanent and please heal the worst ones afterwards and while I’m still coming down.”

I nod.

“OK, I can do that. Now, this won’t be light and fun, you must wrap your head around it before we even go there. It will be serious and in terms of my level of dominance and the submission I will require from you, it will absolutely be high protocol and very demanding on both of us.”

“I know, and it’s exactly what I want.”

“Good.”

I watch him finish his tea, set the mug down and devour another chocolate biscuit, then he lies down on his back, stretches out and looks up at me. He’s comfortable but the shift in position is also yet another silent display of his position in his house compared to mine and I reach out to run my fingers through his soft hair.

“Pretty,” I whisper and he mewls and pushes into the touch.

“Soon,” I promise him.

We’re not quite finished negotiating and I need all the facts before I can relax and let things return to normal, like for example vanish his clothes an edge him right out here in the open.

“What do you think you’ll enjoy the most?”

“The forced surrender.”

His answer is prompt and without hesitation and I smile.

Yes, he likes that.

He likes it when I get a bit rough and force him under before he’s completely ready for it.

This, what he’s asking us to do, however, doesn’t compare to what I usually do to force him to submit.

What I usually do is fun and playful, it’s a headfuck and yes there’s an element of roughness to it but there’s also a sweetness to it. What he wants now will be all rough without any sort of sweetness and there will most definitely not be any playfulness to the scene.

“What will you need from me during and after?”

He laces the fingers of his hands together and rests them on his stomach, then bends one leg at the knee.

“During, I’ll need you to keep me under and be as rough as you possibly can. After, I’ll need loads of cuddles, love, reassurance, maybe a massage, food, especially chocolate and fluids. I might need a few electrolyte potions and water.”

“I’ll make sure that we have all that ready for you, however, I sense that there’s something else you want.”

He blushes a little and nods, then falls silent.

“Your soft toy,” I say.

He nods, shy and with a steadily deepening flush. I caress his cheek and smile.

“We’ll sleep upstairs. Not your room or in mine.”

I can read him like a book and the sparkle in his eyes tells me that I was spot on. It makes me smile. Knowing him as well as I do, it’s an added security blanket and the only reason I am agreeing to this. I could never do this sort of thing with a random stranger at a dungeon and I wouldn’t want to. Luckily, I don’t have to. What Draco and I have is forever.

“Last question, anything you want me to avoid at all costs?”

Draco remains silent for a moment, thinking about the question, mulling it over in his head. After a few minutes, he speaks.

“Don’t call me Draco, call me something derogatory and as long as you think I can take it you can add a bit of humiliation to it.”

I inhale sharply and take a moment to consider his words before I nod. It’s not usually something we do, although not something we’ve never done. It’ll make things more demanding on me but I’m prepared to do this, or at least I will be once I’ve done my research, talked to people and watched a scene or two.

“OK, for now, I think I know everything I need to know, however, I might have more questions in a few weeks, in which case we’ll have to sit down and negotiate again.”

“Please,” he says and I instantly know we’re on the same page.

The only way this thing is going to work out is if we’re truthful, open and negotiate everything so that we both know exactly where we stand.

“Thank you, my love. Thank you for your honesty and for having this conversation with me.”

“I know it’s important.”

“Yes, it is.”

I nod, then shuffle to push Draco’s leg back down and straddle his stomach. My crotch traps his hands, holding them in place and I push the tray with our tea mugs and the unfinished plate of biscuits off the blanket and into safety, then brace myself on my arms and capture Draco’s lips in a kiss that I deliberately start soft but turn into a possessive battle of the tongues.

When I pull away, he’s breathless and my lungs are also mildly protesting the lack of oxygen. I look down at him and note that his eyes have darkened. His lips are wet with a mix of mine and his spit and they’re slightly parted. He breathes through his mouth, inhaling large portions of air and looks at me with anticipation.

“Time to treat you, pet, it’s been a long afternoon, I think you would benefit from a little bit of my attention. Something to stop those thoughts from racing quite so much, a little bit of relief, some respite from our negotiation.”

“Please, Harry.”

He breathes the words out, his voice low and nothing more than a whiny plea that jolts down my spine and pools low in my groin.

“I’m going to make this really good for you, pet. You absolutely deserve a treat and I’m going to give you an amazing one. Are you ready, pet?”

“Yes, Harry,” he whispers in affirmation and licks his lips.

“Please, Harry, I need you.”

“I know you do, pet, and I’ll take such good care of you, I promise.”

I finish our little exchange with a practised wave of my hand and his clothes vanish. They fold into a neat pile and I levitate them back onto his bedroom.

He won’t be needing them any more today.


End file.
